


edge of seventeen

by heart_nouveau



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: 1970s, 1980s, Childhood Friends, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heart_nouveau/pseuds/heart_nouveau
Summary: Debbie’s mouth was dry. Lou walked over to her. She reached out with both hands and cupped Debbie’s face.Time slowed down. Lou’s blue eyes were big and then they closed as she leaned forward and very softly kissed Debbie on the lips. It was so soft. It wasn’t like kissing boys at all. It was so, so much better.





	edge of seventeen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FemslashGalore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemslashGalore/gifts).



> For **FemslashGalore** as part of the Ocean's 8 Gift Exchange. I hope you enjoy!

 

**1978**

Debbie may never have met Lou Miller if Danny hadn’t been going through his Frank Sinatra phase, when he taught himself to play the piano and every Italian grandma on the block was gushing about how handsome he was. Thank god he could barely carry a tune, or he would’ve been a true pain.

Danny went out and got an after-school job at the ballet school run out of the Episcopalian church across town. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to have an angle – he genuinely wanted a job. Debbie couldn’t blame him. Her brother was 17 years old, and there was no money around the house that Danny Sr. didn’t spend on gambling. He wanted a bit of pocket money to bankroll his cons. Debbie was only 15, so she was stuck babysitting. It wasn’t like she had much else going on besides that and helping with the cons Danny allowed his kid sister in on.

But the day she went to wait around for Danny at his job, everything changed.   

Debbie wouldn't have been caught dead going to ballet class (she had two left feet and no money to spend on lessons anyway), and she rolled her eyes the whole way up the scuffed wooden stairs, imagining the snobby kinds of girls who did ballet.

And yeah, the leaping and twirling horde of girls, all around Debbie’s age, were mostly the prim, proper drips who stuck their hands up right away so the teacher would call on them in school (Debbie was the type to slouch at the back of the class, but still made good grades). But.

Debbie saw her right away, the clear standout of the class. This girl had the long, lean lines of a born athlete. She wasn’t dressed any differently than the other girls, just black leotard and light pink tights, but it was as if a spotlight shone on her. She stood in the front row, pale blonde hair wrapped into a neat bun. 

Debbie noticed her right away, and she couldn’t really stop looking, even as she pretended to do her French homework, kicking her legs against the grubby waiting room chair until the church secretary Mrs. O’Neal leaned over the makeshift receptionist desk and hissed at her to stop.

She watched the girl, and Danny a little bit too, for the rest of class. Danny was doing a good job, playing some Chopin music they had on a record at home. He was actually pretty talented – light fingered in more ways than one. Not that Debbie was going to tell him that.

When class ended, she tried not to stare, making a point of studying her homework as the dance students filed past. When she glanced up slyly, Debbie was surprised to see the girl go over to the piano and say a few words to Danny. They were too far away for Debbie to really tell what they were saying. Danny was laughing and relaxed. The blonde girl folded her arms across her chest, tipped her head back, smiling. The flash of her bright white teeth made Debbie feel funny, and she looked down at her work, staring at the printed words until they blurred.

She waited for Danny to put his music in the bench seat and come over, then they left. As they went down the stairs, the side door to the makeshift dressing room - really an old converted classroom - opened, and the blonde girl came out wearing normal clothes.

She looked so different that Debbie almost didn’t recognize her. She dressed kind of like Jodie Foster looked in the movie magazines, tomboyish in flared pants, a printed buttondown shirt with wide lapels, a brown vest like a man would wear. Her white-blonde hair fell straight down to the middle of her back and she looked a lot younger. It was a strange contrast between the elegant, womanly person she’d been in her ballet outfit. Debbie felt that funny feeling again, bubbling up in her stomach like lava.

Danny stopped short, grabbing Debbie by the arm. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing widely. Debbie scowled at him but he didn’t notice.

“Thanks,” the girl said. Her voice was surprisingly deep and raspy. She went down the stairs two at a time. At the bottom she paused, looking over her shoulder at Debbie.  

Walking home Debbie asked, “Who was that?”

Danny chuckled. “Don’t be jealous. You’re still my best girl.”

Danny was so smart about most things but he really was phenomenally stupid about girls. Debbie smiled sweetly at him. “Promise I won’t be jealous.”

Danny flipped a cigarette out of a pack and tucked it behind his ear, an affectation he’d picked up even though he swore he’d never smoke. “Her name is Lou,” he said. “She moved here last month from Melbourne. Her mom died, dad too. Now she lives with her grandma. She's all right." 

All of this was interesting. Debbie had never met anyone from Australia or anyone was an orphan before. That was probably why she felt so funny about Lou. It was normal to feel strange when you met someone very different from you. Everybody knew that.

 

 

 

The next day was Friday. Based on more intel she'd squeezed out of Danny, Debbie had developed a plan. She hung around on the tarmac after school near the door where the freshmen got out, kicking at the grass, until she saw a familiar blonde figure emerge after most of the kids had already come and gone. It was that Lou, again dressed like a scruffy Jodie Foster clone in a brown corduroy jacket over pants and another buttondown shirt. 

Debbie leaned against the schoolyard fence and raised her chin, waiting for Lou to notice her. It didn't take long. Lou walked straight towards her, looking surprised.

Debbie gave her a nod and a wave with a few fingers. She tipped her head towards herself and Lou, glancing around, crossed the path and walked up.

“Hey,” Lou said. She looked a bit confused but she kept her cool. Debbie's heart flared.

“Hi,” Debbie said. They were about the same height. A few feet apart, she could really take in Lou’s face—clean pale skin, delicate cheekbones, full lips. She was pretty, but there were a lot of pretty girls at their high school. It wasn't just that. “We haven't officially met. I’m Debbie Ocean.”

“Lou Miller,” the younger girl said. She had a bit of a drawl in her raspy voice. Debbie had never really heard an Australian accent before but now she had. “Aren't you Danny's sister?”

Debbie smiled. "The one and only."

She was used to other girls gushing over how dreamy her brother was - which was gross, but Debbie couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit proud when it happened. But Lou simply said, “Oh, okay. He’s nice.” She hugged her books against her chest.

Debbie said, “I can carry those. You must be tired.”

Lou gave her a strange look. “Okay.”

Debbie told herself she was just being nice; she was older, nothing was wrong with carrying a younger girl’s books. “Headed home?” she said quickly. 

Lou gave her a curious look, a half-smile, and nodded.

“I’ll walk with you,” Debbie told her.

They walked down the street, autumn leaves falling around them. It was awkward, but not in a bad way. Debbie felt the need to say something, anything, swelling up in her chest.

“How long have you been taking ballet classes?” she blurted out.

“Not that long. Only since I moved here.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah just since last month. You could join the class if you wanted.”

Debbie scoffed. “Ballet’s lame. And we don’t have that kind of money.”

“My grandma wanted me to take lessons. The teacher says I’m good at it.” Lou sounded indifferent about something she clearly had a talent for.

“Don’t you like ballet?”

“It’s fine. I’d rather be playing soccer or softball or basketball. Even though they don’t always let girls play, which is stupid.”

“I bet you’d be good at those sports. I’m going to do cheerleading tryouts in the spring,” Debbie said.

Lou flashed her a sideways grin with a devilish flash of white teeth. “I bet you’d look good in the cheerleading skirt.”

Debbie felt her cheeks heat up and she glanced ahead at the sidewalk. Had Lou just- ? No girl had ever spoken like that to Debbie before.

They approached Maple Street with the little bodega and drugstore. “Let’s go in,” Debbie decided, trying to hide her agitation. They walked in casually and then crouched in the makeup aisle. Debbie picked up a Revlon lipstick. “I think this would look good on you, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Lou agreed easily.

Debbie glanced around, then slipped the lipstick up her sleeve as she stood and gathered her books. She was trying to impress Lou, but Lou just watched her. She didn’t look scared or nervous at all. To cover their tracks, Debbie bought some candy with pocket change and tossed a few pieces at Lou as they exited the store. Lou unwrapped her sucker and sucked on it, grinning. Debbie pulled her down the street by the hand.

Under the shade of the oak tree on the next block, she put one thumb on Lou’s lips, then held Lou’s face steady trying to ignore the tingling feeling it gave her inside. She took out the lipstick and applied the plum-brown shade to Lou’s lips. Just like in the ballet class, Lou looked beautiful and different. Debbie had never known someone who could be like so many different people at once. She stared at Lou’s transformed mouth.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. She wanted Lou to kiss her.

Debbie didn’t really know that she could feel that way about a girl, it was supposed to be only boys. But the thought popped into her head fully formed. _I want her to kiss me. I want to kiss her._

Sucking in a breath, she flicked her eyes back up to Lou’s eyes. Lou was just standing there, so calmly, gazing at Debbie like she knew exactly what Debbie was thinking.

Debbie flushed and pulled back. “Here,” she said, flicking the lipstick closed and handing it back to Lou.

Grinning, Lou reached into her jeans pocket and produced not one but three lipsticks and a compact. “And these are for you. I thought the colors would look good on you.”

She sauntered off, leaving Debbie staring after her.

 

 

 

Debbie brooded, listening to her Heart record in her room over and over again until her dad banged on the door and yelled at her to turn that noise off.

She lay upside down on her bed, considering. She'd dated before. She was 15 and looked like she was 18. She could’ve had so many steady boyfriends, she’d kissed a lot of boys. But it all felt so… expected, like it was what she was supposed to be doing. She’d used to feel flutters in her chest when she looked at Charlie Hunter in English class but when she looked at Lou Miller it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

And Lou was a year younger than her. It was nothing like she’d expected. She didn't know what to make of it.

 

 

 

They took to walking home together. Lou was a freshman and Debbie a sophomore, so they didn't have a lot of classes together, nor did they have the same lunch. So all that Debbie saw of Lou was after school, sometimes at ballet class. 

Hanging out with Lou was fun, and they hadn't done anything that Debbie hadn't done with dozens of other girl friends. Doing homework together, going to the movies, listening to records. But still Debbie felt something that couldn't be explained. 

It was Thursday night. Ballet class night. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. Finally she couldn't take it. She put on one of the lipsticks that Lou had stolen for her, a light peach color, and walked across town. 

Debbie got there late, after class had let out. The ballerinas were in the changing room. She folded her arms and leaned against the wall, ignoring every girl who wasn't Lou as they filtered out with their stupid dance bags and stupid expressions. Everyone was stupid who wasn't Lou. Lou didn't come out. So finally Debbie took a deep breath, pushed the changing room door open, and went in. 

Lou looked up and stared at her. She was still in her dance outfit, leotard and tights and bright yellow leg warmers. The room was totally empty except for her.

“What are you doing in here?” She said it blandly, almost warily.

“Just… wanted to say hi.” Debbie felt so awkward. “Everyone else came out…”

“Mrs. Weingartner wanted me to stay and practice my rond de jambes.” Debbie didn’t know what those were. Lou gave a big yawn that turned into a sigh. She stretched both arms overhead and her muscles flexed. Debbie swallowed hard. After another few moments of silence, Lou said, “Well, you can wait for me if you want.”

Debbie awkwardly sat down on the changing bench. Lou undid her practice skirt and stepped out of it. She didn’t make small talk, and Debbie didn’t have anything to say for herself either. In fact, she was still trying to figure out what exactly had made her run into the dressing room, that had made her feel so strongly that she _had_ to be in the same space as Lou.

Lou was still facing Debbie as she changed. Debbie expected her to turn her back but she didn’t. She pulled down her leotard and stepped out of it, not even moving to cover herself. She was half naked in front of Debbie and Debbie could see her whole body.

Debbie’s face flamed bright red.

She knew you weren’t supposed to look at other girls changing because that made you a dyke. It felt like she was on fire, heat rushing through her, feelings that she knew she wasn’t supposed to have…

But that just made her feel even hotter. And she couldn’t stop staring.

Lou was topless now, wearing only her tights. She stared right at Debbie as she peeled the tights down over her thighs, bending over. There was a flash of light brown hair low to her belly button and—

Debbie looked away. She felt like she might explode. Finally Lou turned her back slightly, and Debbie could see the pale curve of her butt, which looked basically the same as it did in a leotard during class, but… Lou was naked! It was different!

Debbie held her hands together and stared at her feet, willing herself to calm down. When she looked up again Lou was in bellbottom jeans and a frayed tank top, nipples poking through the cotton. She clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. “Hey Debbie?”

Debbie’s mouth was dry. Lou walked over to her. She reached out with both hands and cupped Debbie’s face.

Time slowed down. Lou’s blue eyes were big and then they closed as she leaned forward and very softly kissed Debbie on the lips. It was so soft. It wasn’t like kissing boys at all. It was so, so much better.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” Lou said, her voice soft. “When you came in here.”

Debbie’s heart was pounding so fast. All she could do was nod, and keep nodding.

Lou smiled, and it was the prettiest smile. Debbie wanted to see it all the time. She took Debbie’s hand and put it right under her shirt. She gave Debbie another kiss, this one slower. Debbie squeezed her breast and Lou smiled into her mouth. It was the most romantic thing Debbie had ever thought of, better than _Love Story_. Which she’d professed to hate and gagged over dramatically.

“Danny’s waiting for me,” Debbie whispered. She felt like if she didn’t remember who she was she might fall apart into pieces, right now.

Lou nodded.

 

 

 

That night, Lou called Debbie. They didn't talk about it. Instead, Lou invited Debbie to come over the following day. Debbie said yes; she'd never been. Lou’s grandma’s house reminded Debbie of one of those horror movie houses, except less scary. It was mostly just cold and sad.

“Do you want to play with my dress up clothes?” Lou asked.

Debbie secretly thought that Lou was a bit old for that. But it turned out to be an old trunk full of men’s and women’s clothing which was sort of neat. Debbie was interested in trying on costumes.

“My grandma lets me try them on if I’m careful,” Lou explained. She peeled off her clothes and wriggled into a man's suit. It was boxy and square and smelled musty, but somehow it suited her. "This was my grandpa's."

“You look good Lou.”

Lou held out a printed red dress that looked like it was from the 1940s. “If you want.”

Debbie put on the dress, which hugged her curves in ways she didn’t expect. Lou put on an old fedora and pulled her hair into a low bun. She looked so good, just as good as the pictures of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin that Danny kept tacked up on his walls. Debbie didn’t really know how a girl could look that good in boy’s clothes, but Lou was a rule breaker.

Lou smoothed her hair. “I want to cut my hair like Debbie Harry."

Debbie grinned. “You’d look sexy like that.”

Lou grinned back. She pulled Debbie to her feet, pushed her against the wall, and kissed her. Lou was more aggressive this way, dressed in a man's suit with a man's hat. Debbie didn't know what to think about it but she knew that she liked it.

They kissed until Debbie was dizzy and lost her breath and then Lou’s grandma called for them to come down for dinner.

 

 

 

Debbie attended the ballet recital with two sprays of miniature roses—one for Lou, and one for Danny. She sat with Danny’s friends, who snickered and clapped and wolf whistled through the show until Danny gave them a dirty look that made them all shut up. She knew she could say she was there to support her brother if anyone wanted to call her out on her tough girl persona, but she suspected no one would ask. She didn’t yet have the name for herself that she was planning to make.

When Debbie met Lou off stage Lou’s makeup was waxy like a doll’s—dark black eyes with blue eyeshadow and lips red like cherries. She looked so good though, all that fierce eye makeup. She looked ageless even though she was just 14. Debbie loved her no matter how she looked.

“Deborah,” Lou’s grandma said sternly. “Louise said you’ll be staying the night with us.”

“Yes Mrs. Johnson,” she said, as sweet as Shirley Temple. Behind Mrs. Johnson’s head Lou rolled her eyes expressively. She was almost a whole foot taller than her tiny grandma. “It’s just Lou, Grandma,” she said.

“That’s enough, Louise,” her grandma said sternly, and Lou didn’t say anything else, just shrugged and looped her arm through Debbie’s. She smelled the roses Debbie had brought her, pressing them to her chest.

“They don’t have a smell,” Debbie said apologetically. Someday she’d get Lou expensive roses that smelled like Love’s Baby Soft.

Lou smiled at her sideways. “That’s okay. I like them.”

Mrs. Johnson took them to the corner diner for milkshakes and burgers and fries; Debbie ordered a tuna melt. When she kicked her feet under the table she touched Lou’s, which was like playing footsie but not quite.

When they got to Lou's grandma's house, there was a sleeping bag for Debbie on the floor of Lou's room. But Lou said, “You don’t have to sleep down there, are you kidding?” So Debbie jumped up and wriggled into the twin bed beside Lou.

All Lou had to wear to bed was a filmy cotton nightgown which looked ridiculous on her, something her grandma had clearly bought for her. She pulled it over her head and then she wasn’t wearing anything except underwear, and then she looked like herself. The bed could’ve been a raft floating in a tropical ocean for as dizzy and wild Debbie felt.

Lou was really good at being quiet. Debbie had heard boys talking about fingering girls so she tried it on Lou and Lou gasped without sound. She was so wet Debbie wanted to die. They had to be really careful or else the white wire bedframe would rock and creak.

Lou put her mouth on Debbie’s neck and sucked.

“You can’t leave a mark there,” Debbie hissed. Her parents barely paid attention to her but when they decided to, they really did. Lou laughed softly and put her mouth on Debbie’s breast. “How about here?”

“Yeah.” Debbie groaned. “Do it again.”

Later, they talked about what they wanted to do when they were grown up. 

"Danny does things. Illegal things. And sometimes I help him," Debbie confessed in a tiny voice. "But he doesn't hurt anyone, so it's okay. He plans what we do, but it's not going to be like that forever. I'm going to start planning things soon."

"How soon?"

"Maybe next year," Debbie said boldly. She omitted the small crimes she'd already committed. 

“I just want to be rich,” Lou whispered to her. “I want to have so much money that no one can stop me from doing what I want, ever.”

“Doesn’t your grandma have tons of money?”

“Yeah. But it's in a fund, and she’d have to die, and I have to be 30 anyway to get it, and I don’t want that to happen.” Lou swallowed. “I want to get all my money myself.”

“Okay.” Debbie's head spun, dizzy with fantasies and plans, until she drifted off to sleep in Lou's arms. They could go anywhere and do anything together. With Lou, she could do anything.

 

 

 

Then one day Lou wasn’t at school, and she wasn’t at ballet class.

Debbie called and called. She went to the townhouse and rang the doorbell for an hour, but nobody answered. When Debbie pounded on his door, a neighbor curtly told her that Mrs. Johnson had had a stroke and gone to a rehabilitation home. He didn’t know what had happened to her granddaughter.

Debbie was so sick she couldn't sleep. Danny said somberly, “They probably put her in the system, that’s what happens.”

He offered to try to help find her, but all his connections led only to dead ends. Debbie felt sick for months; she cried at the drop of a hat. Where had Lou gone? 

Then, like all things, the pain slowly faded. She started junior year of high school. With Danny graduated, she had to fight for her own power. There weren’t any girls that made her feel like Lou had, but there were some boys. Eventually there were some more girls.

Debbie grew up, and while she didn’t forget, her memories of Lou Miller faded until she was no more than the healed scar of a first love.

 

 

 

**1986**

It was a freezing cold night in January. Brooklyn was not joking around with this winter weather.

All of twenty-three years old with nothing to lose, Debbie was bundled up in a tight minidress under a stolen mink coat. She perched on a stool at her local dive bar, nursing a glass of Jack on the rocks—she’d had no success trawling the uptown bars, just a few palmed watches and a stray wallet, and was trying to warm up before heading home to her squalid, freezing apartment.

Then she saw her. A tall figure across the bar, something familiar about the cut of her back. A spark of recognition flared in Debbie's stomach. Could it really be - 

The woman turned and suddenly Debbie was 15 again, hormones raging, feeling like she would be in suspended animation forever, like she had all the time in the world.

Lou looked everything and nothing like she had at 14, but she was unmistakable. The makeup she wore - dark eye makeup, bright lipstick - colored her in, made her bold and vivacious, and she looked so goddamn beautiful and alive. She smiled and it felt like a piece of Debbie’s heart had been restored. She hadn’t even known it was missing.

Lou strode over. She had on a men’s suit jacket, a tight leopard print silk camisole, and a big pair of suit pants. It was like she’d robbed a stockbroker’s closet and mixed it with lingerie; she looked amazing.

Sometimes life really did just treat you well. They stood for a moment, regarding each other. Neither of them could stop smiling. Whitney Houston was playing softly on the jukebox. 

Lou spoke first, and her voice, that unmistakable throaty rasp, sent shivers up Debbie's spine. “You look good, Deb.”

Debbie shook her head in awe. “So do you. Is that…”

“My grandpa’s jacket. Yeah.”

She’d finally grown into it. A Chrissie Hynde haircut and the posture of a former dancer. Tall heeled boots that made her even taller. Masculine and feminine all at once. She was the sexiest thing Debbie had ever seen but all Debbie could focus on was how good it felt to see her again—a warm, comfortable feeling of happiness and relief.

Debbie smiled. “It really suits you.”

“Thanks.” Lou smiled back. “And this is my grandma’s jewelry.”

Debbie reached a hand out to touch one of the gold chains. She traced Lou’s warm skin a little bit as she let go. Lou watched her with warm eyes all shadowed in makeup.

“Why don’t you come to my place for a bit? We should catch up.” 

Lou put a proprietary hand on the small of Debbie’s back as they left. Nothing had ever felt more like coming home.

 

 

 

Later in the smoky neon haze of Lou’s messy bedroom, Debbie confessed. “You were my first, you know.”

Lou placed her hand over Debbie's hand where it rested on Lou's bare chest. “You were mine too.”

“Really? But you were so confident.”

“I was 14, Deb.” Lou exhaled smoke from her cigarette. “And you made it pretty obvious you were into me.”

Debbie closed her eyes, rolling into Lou’s side. It was impossible how someone could feel so much like home, when they'd barely been teenagers when they first met. “I’m so glad I found you again. I thought about you all the time.”

Lou chuckled. “Debbie, I thought about you every day.”

“So I’ve been looking for a partner,” Debbie said. “I was wondering…”

“I’m in,” Lou said immediately.

She rolled Debbie onto her back and kissed her. And Debbie wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, how the hell she’d ever gotten lucky enough to have met this woman.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by Stevie Nicks.


End file.
